


Luck of the Devil

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Goodbye Sex, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Post- Dark Cybertron Event, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Someday back when we were young/ I guess something just went wrong</em><br/>The two of us are hung/ From the same twisted rope</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck of the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kikuhiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikuhiko/gifts).



> This here's a birthday gift for the lovely Plague! I hope you enjoy it! :3c

The fatal blow to their partnership was that Megatron had gone too far too many times before.

He had been pushed too far himself, sure. But that excuse was flimsy in the face of the one that was closest to his spark.

Still, even damaged - spark broken - unforgiving, Optimus Prime came back to him.

He was drawn to Megatron just as Megatron was drawn to him.

The line was crossed in one of the between times, when in private they had once more decided 'they' were not a factor anymore, a traitorous, treasonous factor to boot- It wasn't supposed to have any bearing on their roles as leaders, as commanders.

It did.

It did, and in a short time in Decepticon custody, fueled by temporary victory and bitter, vitriolic feelings, Megatron violated Optimus in a most heinous matter, one that corrupted not only his very essence but the essence of their tumultuous relationship together.

A vorn after Prime's special operations mecha extracted him from Decepticon clutches, Simanzi kicked off, and the war raged harder than ever before.

It was millions of years before they were near each other in any sort of.... intimate, context again, though it was intimate in only the context that the pair of them found themselves in such close quarters again, and alone in the times Prime came to see him during his tenure in Omega Supreme's grasp.

So many times he thought Optimus would touch him, put hands on him- but he didn't. 

Not directly anyways.

He probably deserved the near electrocution.

....He _certainly_ deserved the near electrocution. 

Their last time came with an air of finality wrought between two pairs of tired optics. There was no fight left in either for their personal war, and Megatron's time was borrowed at best.

His other half would let justice be done- allow Megatron's spark to be rent from his frame and he wouldn't have it any other way. He deserved it, least of all for the violation of his kindred's spark. He'd be a liar if he said that he could truly regret the rest.

When Optimus approached him that last time and activated the privacy shield of his cell, some small part of his mind was _sure_ this would be it. Optimus would take his vengeance in an absolute manner, taking his spark the same way Megatron did to him in those long-past centuries, and leave him a husk before his execution.

It was only fair.

Instead, Optimus Prime sat down next to him, and for a short while, they spoke.

The privacy was an all-encompassing relief, where no flamboyant infant Primes could debase, no- _tarnish_ their time together with his voyeurism.

He made his move when the aura between them changed- charged a bit like it always did- _like it always used to_ \- and he did naught but lower his gaze and lay his hand on Optimus' forearm. All of his Prime's attention was on him in a microsecond, intense and bearing down on him as if he would be crushed by the pede of the metrotitan he resided in.

Megatron ran his hand to Optimus', entwined their digits before he rose his gaze to meet Prime's. "Grant a condemned mechanism his last wish?" There was a wash of emotion evident in those so intensely blue optics- desire, agony, grief, acceptance; Megatron took to looking back at those entwined digits rather than bear the brunt of that gaze, he took a moment to relish in the warmth of living metal against his own.

"The last time was in that burnt out building." He said, keeping his voice conversational- not quite nonchalant. It was the last time before they split, before Megatron crossed the line. He'd not count the violation.

It was selfish.

They both knew it.

It was in the times that they both were sure they could change the other and the passion behind their liaison reflected such. Megatron spilled every want and desire, every thrill of victory past for the cause and his personal agenda into the weight of his thrusting hips, every overload together in their short, secret times had him feeling closer to that idea of _having_ his Prime. The fact that Prime preferred the use of his valve with him made it all the sweeter.

In vivo, Megatron wanted- at least symbolically- to give himself this time. It'd be a last service to Prime and planet in a manner.

Silence permeated the small space for moments more.

"What do you want?" Primus, he _sounded_ so tired too, fatigue ringed with apprehension, though they _both_ knew that he already knew.

"Your time. Your spike." _Your spark_. He'd not dare ask for something so verboten, though the want was present and pervasive. It was a request unfair for the average mech to ask, even more so for him and their rocky relationship. Not to mention he _knew_ that at least where the two of them were concerned, it would reopen old scars for the short duration of their split after- it would be a personal blow, the loss once more of a lover.

Megatron wouldn't need to mourn.

Megatron wouldn't need to experience that grief that came with the loss of a long time lover after tasting him again.

Megatron was lucky he was even getting a trial.

A soft, familiar click sounded. Entwined digits squeezed just the littlest bit.

Prime had made his choice and he gave that much more back in turn by pulling him closer, angling his face in with his free hand and initiating a kiss. It was sweet and mournful, backed by the sort of sap that had grunts in his forces humiliated for soft-sparkedness.

It occurred to Megatron that a soft spark didn't necessarily mean a weak one, and he threw himself into the contact with a silent fervor.

The cadence they fell into was like switching into one's alt-mode after a long stint in root- the most natural thing in the world, and implicit memory had Megatron taking hold of Optimus' helm and taking his kisses that way. This wasn't any sort of violent necking, no teeth, no stench of death or fired weaponry or threat of discovery....relatively, of course.

Optimus' fingers dug under his hip armor in _just_ the way he liked and Megatron allowed himself to be drawn closer, settled over the expanse of Optimus' thighs.

Revved, but wanting to take his time to _look_ at least, Megatron pretended to take a critical eye to his lover's frame. There was a certain... appeal... to Optimus' frame while his alt remained that of an Earthen vehicle, especially if one knew where to look- to touch.

"Your windshield is quite... prominent, with your chosen vehicle mode. Was that intentional?" his tone was teasing, meant to disperse some of the melancholy about them, and his digits roved up and down Prime's sides for a fleeting klik, coming to a rest on the twin pairs of exposed marker lights on top of his chest.

His optics brightened, exposed mouth forming a soft, surprised 'o' before he caught on and it morphed into a smirk.

"Was turning into a gun that couldn't fire on it's own intentional?" Ah, _good_. _Excellent_. That was what he wanted out of Optimus (one thing anyways)- a glimpse of that rapport from before.

"You tell me." He replied, bringing his thumbs down to the top edge of those expansive windows. Optimus' venting stalled a moment before his fans started- one muted click- a second, and then he succumbed quietly as Megatron's digits pressed in harder to that edge between that sensor-laden transparisteel glass and metal.

Perhaps unused to attention of any sort of late, Prime's affect became seemingly more reserved as Megatron rubbed wide circles over the glass- ah but his initial assessment was wrong; contact with scandalous external wipers drew out a protest of a moan and a pretty flush of energon to Prime's faceplates.

"Megatron..." There was no real warning in his growl, Prime punctuated his intent with a pull down and a surge up to grind his modesty plating to Megatron's.

The sounds of fans ticking higher fortified Megatron's confidence behind his decision, he rose just enough to release his covering to transform aside before he angled back down to grind his bared valve down and anterior node on searing pelvic armor.

It was a novel sensation from his untried new frame, the roll of his hips down onto the willing mech below produced more lubricant than he thought previously possible. That being said, Prime was one of the few who had been with him in such a manner and- Hn, Optimus was getting that sadly reverential look across his naked faceplates again.

That needed to stop.

He ceased in his rocking with a short withdrawal and slipped a hand down to touch at the sticky-slick paneling. "Open." The familiar weight of Prime's spike slid hot and heavy into his hand. A mellow, guiding stroke to the underside and Prime was inside him, stretching out new calipers and activating the nodes within in a slow wave.

It hurt, burned in that pleasing, overfull sort of way- ideal for the place, ideal for who his partner was and what he was giving. If the circumstances were not... as they were, and Megatron was in the habit of taking pleasure from his valve, such a sensation would be addicting.

Megatron went to bear down harder, take Prime past capacity if he could in pursuit of even more of the weight of the sensation when he found himself halted- braced but not completely immobile. Refocusing brought his optics back to Prime's faceplates- a soft-lipped scowl sat under an intense gaze.

"I am _not_ the tool of your punishment, Megatron, nor shall I be." He couldn't know that for sure in the end, of course, but the sentiment was understood immediately, and with a great heave Optimus Prime lifted both his own weight and Megatron's up to against the cell wall.

From there, he moved against him, into him- again and again with a rythm too languid and careful to measure against any of their past encounters; It was all Megatron could do to hook his pedes around Prime's  thighs,  hold on, and allow for Prime to take in earnest what he had freely given.

Whether out of a mercy or personal form of comeuppance, Optimus' lips locked with his at the first inkling of a moan- from who was anyone's guess, but it served it's purpose. Prime sped his motions up, activating those nodes so deep inside him over and over- always agonizingly- unfailingly gentle with him. It was an extended goodbye, sparkfelt and entirely Optimus; the stray thought broke through Megatron's haze of arousal and made his spark clench before he was overtaken by overload, charge washed through him and he tightened his grip on Prime by his pauldrons; their kiss broke with the bowing of his frame closer to Optimus'- the grace of clenched denta and tightly kept control held his powerful cry back.

A five count of thrusts- the good, _nostalgic_ , hard ones- and Prime was with him in climax, clung close and pressing his cheek to Megatron's patchy new Autobrand. Hot vents fell across his chest-plates even as charged transfluid filled him. A last carnal gift, incriminating evidence of their relationship's past to take Megatron to his trial.

An age passed between them as their systems cycled down, Prime's withdrawal and careful placement of Megatron down brought a small gush of their shared lubricants and transfluid with him, and Megatron couldn't help the snicker at the sight. Optimus shuttered his optic in a wide-eyed blink before catching sight of what could be funny and tutting with a shake of his helm; an old cloth was withdrawn from his subspace to wipe the mess made from their frames post-haste.

"...Thank you."

Optimus paused in his hasty cleaning, lifted his optics to meet Megatron's, the deposed warlord's expression was as earnest as his voice, serious and sincere. Optimus tried not to boggle at him, and his battlemask snapped shut with a click as he finished his task.

"You're most welcome." The words were like magic and with the snapping shut of his modesty paneling, Megatron's haughtiness returned in full force. He crossed one leg over the other in a bid to look nonchalant from his sitting position as Prime rose to full height.

A pulse of silence passed. Megatron reset his vocalizer.

"Yes, your service to your citizenry is most commendable, but if I recall correctly, you've got things to do- trials to preside over?" Optimus gave him an inscrutable look before he let out a great heaving sigh of a vent and righted his stance.

"I do." He sounded resigned under his resolve, and after a last covert glance over the both of them, he returned the barrier of the cell to translucency. "Megatron." Optic contact, a nod, and Prime formed himself an exit.

"Prime." Megatron watched him go with all the air of the worn-down, _victorious_  leader Prime was, and settled in to think.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're familiar with what happens after DC, you've got the title's meaning. ;D 
> 
> Summary lyrics are from [This song here~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPS0wH8zUqs/%22)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
